The Academy Awards is missing the big picture in shaking up the Best Picture category for the second time in just two years.

The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences announced last night that the category won't be limited to five nominees, as it had been for much of Oscar's history. Nor will it necessarily be expanded to 10 nominees, as it has since 2009.

Instead, it's some amorphous number between those poles, depending on the whims of the voters. A film will need a minimum of 5 percent first-place votes to crack into the circle of Best Picture nominees.

Sunday's Tony Awards showed off not only the best of what's on Broadway stages right now (and the not-so-best: that "Spider-Man" number was dire), but it also previewed the most exciting movie event of the weekend.

No, not "Green Lantern." And certainly not that atrocious-looking penguin movie.

Folks, if you weren't part of the packed house at Golden Light Cantina last night, read this post and weep.

Band of Heathens, a six-man group of Texas soulsters from Austin, rocked the joint last night, putting on one of those shows people will still be talking about months from now.

Lubbock band No Dry County opened the show and proved to be a great match, thanks to their own tight harmonies and assured stage presence. If anything, BoH sounded just a hair less energetic when they started up, even with their gospel-tinged opener "Shine a Light."

The ever-brave FX Network debuts a seriously weird comedy tonight, pairing it with the second season of "Louie," one of TV's best, most ambitious shows.

"Wilfred," starring Elijah Wood, premieres at 9 p.m. today on cable channel 43, and believe me, this is one of the oddest shows you're ever going to see.

It opens with Wood's character, a former lawyer named Ryan, printing off the third draft of his suicide note and fixing himself a banana smoothie laced with a bottle of sleeping pills. Yes, it's a comedy and yes, Ryan lives.

Of all the things my dad has taught me, few are more important than this: "The In-Laws" is one of the funniest movies ever made.

No, not the vile, reprehensible 2003 version. I'm talking about the sublime 1979 original, starring Alan Arkin and the late Peter Falk, who died Thursday at age 83.

If you haven't seen it, I implore you to add it to your Netflix queue immediately, to head straight away to your closest Redbox, to run as fast as you can to Hastings. Get your hands on it and marvel at its brilliance. This is farce of the highest order.